Eathan Reuben
by SarahShalomDavid
Summary: Premature birth, commonly used as a synonym for preterm birth, refers to the birth of a baby before its organs mature enough to allow normal postnatal survival, and growth and development as a child. PLEASE READ AUTHORS NOTE - ITS VERY IMPORTANT
1. Angel

THIS STORY IS DEDICATED TO **EATHAN REUBEN GREEN –** FOREVER IN OUR HEARTS && NEVER FORGOTTEN

**I NEVER TRULY REALISED HOW MANY PEOPLE MY STORIES MANAGE TO REACH AROUND THE WORLD UNTIL LATELY**

**I WOULD LIKE TO SEND OUT A MESSAGE AROUND THE WORLD IN ORDER TO RAISE AWARENESS**

**TELL ME WHAT YOU THINK IN MAILS AND REVIEWS BECAUSE I WANT TO SEE IF THIS MESSAGE CAN REACH AROUND THE GLOBE**

**THE MESSAGE IS THIS;**

_Every baby is precious._

_Every baby is beautiful._

_Every baby is innocent._

_Every baby is amazing._

**PLEASE VISIT THIS SITE IN ORDER TO HELP A CHARITY THAT HELPS PREMATURE BABIES AND THEIR FAMILIES**

**www (dot) bliss (dot) org (dot) uk**

**www (dot) bonniebabies (dot) co (dot) uk**

I WOULD APOLOGISE FOR ADVERTISING BUT IM NOT SORRY BECAUSE THESE CHARITIES NEED **YOUR **HELP NOW! GIVE WHAT YOU CAN AND HELP THESE BABIES!

Sarah smiled happily in the crisp white hospital room, her baby boy in her arms, the tiny little boy kicked his legs softly and nuzzled his mother, making her smile even more brightly, as she showed him outside of the window, a place that she knew in her heart that he may never get to see or experience.

Eathan nuzzled her once more and whimpered, even being unwell, he still had an appetite, she sat down on the hospital bed and made quick work of her gown and nursing bra, cradling her son close to her breast she leant back on the headboard as his lips latched onto her and suckled from her hungrily.

She sighed contently, and looked up as her mother came in, "Shalom Ima" she said softly to her, and put her hand out to her mother, checking on the newborn every few seconds and shifting his position slightly.

Ziva smiled at her daughter, "Are you okay?" she asked her only child, as she sat down on the edge of Sarah's bed and gripped her first born child's hand, while cupping her tanned cheek in her palm

Sarah smiled, "Of course I am, I have my beautiful baby boy in my arms and I have the most amazing mother by my side" she said softly

Ziva grinned and kissed her daughter's head, "Hows the little one?"

Sarah bit her lip and stroked his cheek, "He is okay at the moment..I'm worried about him Ima" she cried silently as she spoke

The elder Israeli woman wrapped her arms around them both carefully, knowing that her grandson may not make it through the night was hard on them all, his breathing was not one hundred percent and he was simply too premature.

Eathan fell asleep against his mothers chest, his lips forming a suckling motion against her golden skin

Sarah smiled and lay him on her chest, laying back against the bed, she patted the spot on the bed beside her, and her mother smiled and lay beside Sarah.

Ziva smiled and pulled up the blankets to cover Sarah and Eathan carefully, Sarah smiled and closed her eyes, revelling the feel of her child on her skin, the pure love flowed from her and the pure innocence radiated from the newborn.

The eldest Israeli smiled at her child and kissed her head, "I love you my prinsteein" she whispered softly to her

Sarah opened her eyes and kissed her mother's shoulder, the closest part of Ziva, and smiled, "I love you too Ima" she looked down at Eathan laying on her chest and kissed his head, that was covered in a light covering of dark hair and she smiled, "...and I love you too my angel" she said softly to her first born son

Sarah fell into a light sleep holding her son to her chest, and Ziva stayed awake watching her daughter and grandson together, hoping that for her child's sake and everyone else's that this newborn would be okay.

BUT being okay is not always an option.

Some simply aren't given that choice in life.

Eathan would go home the following day with his mother, and grandmother.

BUT he would never get to blow out the candles or see numbers etched onto balloons...

His mother would never get to see him crawl or walk or even call her name

His grandmother would comfort a grieving mother and struggle to cope with the hurt that her child would go through at the loss of such an innocent.

From a crisp white cot to a crisp white coffin....too soon

Taking with him so much love from his mother and all her dreams of taking him to the park and to the zoo.... it was the simple things she wanted...she would give everything and anything to have him back

Even years down the line she would sit with his blanket and lay flowers at his bedside...a bed that no child should be in.


	2. Blur

It was days later when a mother stood with an urn in her hands, gripping it tightly and crying. Crying for the loss of her first born child. Crying for the life not lived. Crying for the child she wanted to raise. Crying for the child she wished she could hold right now and forever.

Ziva wrapped her arms around her daughter and pulled her close, not saying a word. What could she say if she wanted to?

Sarah's legs gave way, and her mother gradually lowered her to sit down on the floor, holding her close, and running her hand through her child's curls.

She slowly scattered her child's ashes, everything was a blur to her, since the death of her child, not a single thing seemed real...

**Thanks for reading this fan fiction and thank you very much to those who promised to donate to the charities highlighted in the last chapter**


End file.
